


Dream Eaters

by kayura_sanada



Category: DCU
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, Dream Eaters (Kingdom Hearts) - Freeform, Feel-good, Fluff, M/M, Mind Meld, Misunderstandings, Soul-Searching, Unnecessary Soul-Searching, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: Bruce and Clark are sent to a world of dreams by a race of aliens asking for help. In order to help them find their ways, the aliens promise them guides for their dreams.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Dream Eaters

“It’s cute.”

Batman scowled.

Clark covered his mouth, unable to help it. The supposed ‘guides’ this alien race had assured them would await them in this dream world were nothing like he or Bruce had imagined. For one thing, they were multicolored in ludicrous ways – the creature that followed Clark around, for instance, was little more than a long blue balloon with button eyes, though its ears and tail hinted vaguely at some sort of feline – or dog? or anything, really. The creature nuzzling against Bruce’s cheek was yellow and pink, the contrast of which bore itself even more striking against the dark black of Bruce’s suit. It was little more than a bright fuzzball with two equally bright wings. Its eyes, despite it being much smaller than the feline-canine, were almost two times bigger. And it made a happy noise not unlike a coo.

Okay, it was hilarious.

Bruce gave a long sigh of suffering before looking around, clearly trying to pretend the little bat guide was not actually there. “We just need to find this Keepstone, right?”

“Yup. Get the Keepstone, keep the Allavari from losing their minds to the ‘dark madness.’

Bruce rolled his eyes at the names and stepped forward. Though the world around them was merely dream, his foot clopped slightly as if on cobblestone. Bruce grimaced at the noise. “So, ‘guide,’ which way do we go?”

The bat thing chirruped into Bruce’s ear before taking off. It flew over the strange dog-cat before taking off – straight ahead. Clark looked around. Mist pooled around their feet, but the big, black, empty drop-off to either side and behind was pretty obvious. “Maybe it gets more labyrinthine from here.”

Bruce sighed.

The path did not get more labyrinthine. It stayed completely straight, first for a minute, then five, then ten. The two guides showed no sign of slowing down. In fact, they looked positively giddy at the brisk walk. Oftentimes the cat-canine came bounding around Clark’s legs, tail wagging so much its entire butt wiggled, only to lope off ahead of them once again. Bruce’s bat also came to hang around its human, flapping itself around his head and comparing its long, bright green ears with his, chattering madly with its two long teeth as Bruce steadily ignored it. The bat didn’t seem to mind. It would always have its fun and then hurry back up to the cat-dog.

“There’s no end to this. The scenery isn’t even changing.”

Clark looked ahead. It was true. Whatever path they were forging, it looked like an endless road straight ahead. “We’re not falling for some sort of dream ploy, are we?”

Bruce sent him a look. “How would I possibly know?”

All right, fair point. “But there’s no other path. Unless you want to brave a fall into nothing.” He waved a hand to indicate the deep blackness around them.

“This is a dream. We’re supposed to be dreaming.” Bruce frowned. “If that’s the case, then a fall should only serve to wake us up.”

“Are you going to test that?”

Another look. Clark bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Don’t worry. I’d catch you.”

“Thanks,” Bruce said dryly, and turned away. Part of his cheek was covered by his mask, but Clark had exceptional sight, and it included heat vision. He knew Bruce was blushing. He grinned.

They walked for another eight minutes before Bruce started showing signs of frustration – thin lips, longer strides, furtive glances to either side of them. Clark stopped walking and floated up. “I’m going to take a look around.” His guide came up to him, its tail no longer wagging. He held out his hand. “Want to come with me?”

The guide grinned and bounced up onto its hind legs. He scooped it up. “You’re invited, too,” he said, turning to Bruce. He scowled.

“Just be quick. And be careful. We don’t know what kind of traps may wait for anyone who strays from the path.”

Clark’s grin softened into a rueful smile. Bruce was one of the few people he’d ever met who both recognized that he wasn’t invincible and also cared about him. Most saw what he was capable of and thought he was invincible – or saw him as a foe to be eliminated.

He floated up, his cape flapping idly behind him. The mist rolled away in puffy swaths as he passed through it. He looked around. “More darkness,” he called down. Bruce’s heartbeat remained steady; he wasn’t the least bit surprised. Clark waited a few moments, ready for something to attack him or act against his movement. Nothing. He searched for heat, ultraviolet light, movement. Again, nothing. Just as he heard nothing save himself and his three companions. Nothing, nothing, nothing. “Maybe we just don’t dream the way the Allavari do?”

“What? We don’t get killed by some mental affliction when we have nightmares? Are you sure?”

Clark rolled his lips between his teeth. He shook with silent laughter. Bruce was losing too much patience. “All right. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t hide the echoes of his laughter well enough; he heard Bruce’s teeth clack and could well envision the scowl marking that beautiful face. He headed off, zooming ahead to check the path they were on. His guide stuck its head out from between his arms and let out several high-pitched yips as they flew, apparently giddy out of its mind with the flight.

Without taking Bruce’s pace, he arrived within minutes. His brows rose to his hairline. Literally nothing stood in their way. No traps, no enemies, no visions. No _nothing_. He floated down, his hold stronger on his strange guide as it wriggled and squirmed and bounced in his arms, its face twisting to him as if to say, ‘again! again!’

Slowly, Clark put the dog-cat down.

There was nothing here at the end of the road save the long, thin altar upon which sat a bright purple-black stone. He reached out for it and found no resistance. He frowned. One touch told him everything he needed to know. He pulled his hand back with wide eyes. “Wait.” He looked down. “Seriously? This is why we were brought in here?”

The creature’s butt was wiggling again.

He curled his fingers to his palm. Certainly he and Bruce could complete the mission – such as it was – and head on forward, no problem. They could even return the Keepstone, though Bruce would likely be more tempted to just throw it at the chief’s head.

“Well. This has been an absolute waste of time.”

Still, he found himself smiling. No battles for once. No traps – well, none that intended harm. He offered the guide another lift and headed back with its happy yips in his ears.

When he landed, it was to find Bruce standing with arms crossed, his scowl turned ever further downwards. “What happened? You were gone for a while.”

He laughed and set the guide down. It bounded over to its companion and hopped up as if to join it in the air. “Would you believe I made it all the way to the end of the road?”

“And?” Bruce asked, his eyes flashing. He hadn’t called out for Clark, but his heart rate had certainly increased. Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“The Keepstone is there, and the path to it is perfectly safe. There may have been a slight misunderstanding between us and the Allavari.”

Bruce frowned. “About their plight or ours?”

“Ours? Sort of?”

That scowl was back and better than ever. “Clark.”

He held up his hands. “I can always just take you to the end and you can see for yourself.” Bruce stared at Clark’s hands. That blush was back. Clark bit his cheek to hide his smile, knowing very well that Bruce was the type to cut off his nose to spite his face when it came to things like this.

Bruce stepped closer. Victory. Clark lowered his hands until they were ready to wrap in the dip of Bruce’s spine. There were several ways they could fly – several ways they’d already flown – but there was one that was Bruce’s favorite. Alone and with only two flashy guides as witnesses, Clark allowed himself to fold Bruce into his arms and hug him chest to chest. Bruce hesitated for a brief moment before curling his arms under Clark’s and around his back. He lowered his head slightly in preparation for the wind on takeoff. It left Bruce’s lips kissing Clark’s shoulder.

Clark lifted them into the air.

The weight of Bruce in his arms was one he could never describe to the man – and certainly could never describe without a glare and a well-executed grapple. But he could lift so many things so much heavier than the man, so much sturdier, so less likely to end up bloodied and broken. Bruce was amazing, brilliant, enduring. But here, in his arms, he felt vulnerable and small and in need of protection.

Well. Hence why he would never tell Bruce any such thing, for fear of Bruce feeling the need to prove the instinct wrong.

He looked down at their guides. “We can find our own ways,” he told them. “What you’re here for isn’t necessary.”

The guides shared a look. Clark headed off before they could argue. Bruce chuffed a small laugh into his skin. He shivered. “I thought you liked them.”

“I do. But they aren’t necessary, and they’ll only slow us down.” More importantly, letting his guide travel with them would mean giving up this rare private moment with Bruce, and he wasn’t giving that up, even for those cute critters. His reward was Bruce relaxing in his arms, letting Clark take that last bit of Bruce’s weight as they soared through the misty air. He felt Bruce sigh and let himself tune into Bruce further – his heartbeat, how it raced steadily within Clark’s hold, his scent, the spice of his cologne that he could never fully wash out enough for Clark to not smell it. His breath, flowing easily thanks to previous flights, during which Bruce had learned the trick to inhaling while the wind whipped past around him. His skin, practically vibrating even in rest. His muscles, slowly relaxing completely. The sound of Bruce’s eyelashes fluttering. The sound of his lips widening into a smile.

They landed less than a minute later. Clark set Bruce down before landing himself, unsurprised to see Bruce’s attention go immediately to the task at hand. Bruce marched over to the Keepstone and pulled out one of his gadgets. “Any idea what it is?” he asked.

“A pretty good one,” Clark admitted. Bruce tilted his head, indicating he was listening as he pushed a few buttons. Whatever device he was using seemed to scan the stone. It beeped a few times, then went silent save for the whir of its computer drive. “The Allavari are creatures dependent on the purity of their minds. It’s understandable that they have something that would clear out impurities or… confusion.”

Bruce turned from his computer completely then, his eyes hooded enough to speak of a furrowed brow. “Clark,” he said again. A warning. He shrugged.

“They may have erroneously decided that we had something we needed to clear up in our minds.”

Bruce stared at him for two straight seconds before he growled. “Are you kidding me?” He snapped his computer doodad closed. “These people played _matchmaker_ with us?!”

Clark shifted on his feet. “Well, when you put it _that_ way…”

“Unbelievable.” Bruce threw his hands up in the air. He started pacing. “And what was the point of the walk? And this thing?” He waved his hand to the stone, then sent a thinned look his way. “And why did you bother bringing us here?” Then before Clark could do more than open his mouth, “let me guess. Time to speak with each other and reflect. The stone acts as some sort of conduit for the both of us – and only after we engage said conduit will we be returned from our dreams.”

Correct on all counts. Clark shut his mouth.

“And if we fell off the edges?”

“I don’t know. We might have woken up.”

“Or we might have returned to the start – or perhaps _that_ sort of response would have triggered the traps.” Clark shrugged. Either way. They didn’t have to worry about that. This ‘test’ was unnecessary. “Let’s get this over with.” Bruce pulled on the fingers of one glove. Immediately, Clark’s gaze dipped down, watching that small line of flesh emerge from its black cocoon. Bruce touched the stone. “Let’s go, Clark. We have better things to do with our time.”

“Do we?” But he stepped up beside Bruce. “I don’t mind staying here for a little while.”

“I’d rather be away from these people before they decide they need to get further involved.”

Again, fair point. He reached out and touched the stone.

It was more than he’d bargained for, gaining sudden and complete access to Bruce’s mind. If they’d truly needed this ‘cleanse,’ then this sort of thing would have actually pulled them both back; both he and Bruce had things they would rather keep secret from one another. Clark already knew the shadows Bruce willingly lay in; they’d had their fair share of arguments over them, and they would again.

The other side of the coin was the burden Clark felt, and the loneliness; they’d gotten into their fair share of arguments over the first, and would again. The second, though still raw and aching, had found some small measure of peace with the discovery of his cousin and the completion of this very bond.

Still, there was one wonderful thing about the stone. The instant their minds connected, Clark was suddenly, stunningly aware of how Bruce felt about him. The way Bruce looked at him and saw light, and hope, and beauty. The way Bruce thought of him as the best parts of humanity. The way Bruce, at that very moment, was remembering the feel of Clark carrying him through the wind and sending soft, warm emotions through the stone.

The way, beneath all the darkness and shadows and Bruce’s loss, sat the even deeper glow of love, hidden and buried for fear of losing it yet again, handed over freely and completely to Dick and Tim and Damian and Barbara and… him.

“I love you, too,” he said out loud and got to _feel_ Bruce’s blush, his giddy pleasure, before it shifted into wry amusement and deep exasperation.

“Shut up. I can feel us waking up.”

Clark could feel it, too. He just didn’t want to wake up yet. He poured all of his own emotions into the stone, how happy he was with their relationship, how worried he constantly felt over Bruce’s desire to remain in the darkness, how ready he was to stand by Bruce’s side, how fond he was of Bruce’s kids and even of some of his fouler moods. How much he loved the idea of Bruce in his Batman suit with his hands free, and how much he couldn’t wait to peel the rest of the suit off.

“Clark!” Bruce snapped, but it was too late. Just before the stone sent them back to wakefulness, he felt Bruce’s fervent desire to rip Clark’s homemade suit to shreds.

He woke up laughing.


End file.
